Miracles
by Minus the Honey Bear
Summary: A new trilogy that exhibits the blossoming relationship between one angry Miss Poppy and the stubborn Mr Hugo. A Christmas Miracle - Poppy is sick of Christmas. The strangers in London make it almost unbearable especially considering how alone she is, but more so the annoying redhead who seems to be cropping up everywhere.


_A trilogy I have been working on for a little bit now. I thought it was appropriate given the up-coming season and I loved the chemistry between these two characters. Feel free to tell me what you think._

Saturday, 23rd December, 2028

Christmas was the worst. One year previous I had moved to England to study philosophy at Cambridge University (before discovering just how pointless my degree actually was and moving across to psychology this year) and ended up spending my Christmas alone in a bar, losing my virginity to some entirely drunk trades' apprentice who, I was pretty sure, was using me to get back at his bitchy fiancé. This year, I had decided to completely change my fate from being the lonely skank at a bar to being happy and surrounded by friends. I had made sure that my closest friends would be back at Cambridge (or at least close enough) for Boxing Day and so we would celebrate Christmas then, as an overseas family and I would use all Christmas day getting ready for it. I would not be caught unawares this year. I would not be left alone in a dingy bar with depression and loneliness to keep me company.

I would perform a Christmas Miracle.

The first step was to get the ingredients and presents. I had decided to do a traditional Christmas lunch by my standards. Before moving continents, my family would have a huge Christmas lunch with four meats, all vegetables and snacks and four desserts. This year, although definitely smaller than my immediate family, three cousins and multiple family friends, I would have the same meal planned and prepared before time. Unfortunately, I had a nine o'clock meeting with one of my professors meaning I wouldn't be in London until about one, when most of the good stuff would be taken. But I wasn't deterred! I would solider on. I splashed for a train ticket (instead of using my usual transport—Bucky's brother owned a thrice-used taxi and, on weekends he'd charge one pound per passenger to have a ride to London. It usually took twice the time and smelt horrible though) and reached King's Cross at exactly 12:48, which was earlier than I had anticipated. Use to the hustle of England, I expertly dodged the crowds and made it to the taxi rank with astounding time. Unfortunately, I wasn't the only one who had taken to the same bank at the same second. There, manhandling my door from closing was a pretty-boy redhead who looked more than happy to steal my taxi and waste my time.

"Excuse me, miss," He smiled happily down at me, assuming I'd shift across in my seat. I raised an eyebrow at him, telling him he'd have to beg. It may be the season of giving but there was no way this arrogant brat was going to take my perfect Christmas away from me because he thought I was some floozy who'd give up her cab. "Alright," He sighed, rolling his eyes at me slightly, "Can we please share the cab?" I shuffled slightly across, not giving a response, and hoped he wouldn't talk during the trip. Yes, he might have the most adorable accent I had ever heard during all my time in this country but I had things to plan.

"Where to?" The cabbie called out in front.

"Oxford Street."

"Waterbeach." We spoke at the same time. He spared me a glance and I sent him a glare at the same time.

"No," I told him plainly. He looked like he was fighting a smile and that only made my blood boil. Thankfully, he managed to control it so it looked like there was a twitching problem with his lip.

"No?" He asked me amused.

"If you wanted to go to bloody Waterbeach you should take a train," I jutted my hand towards the station we had both exited and reached across him to pull his door open. He shot me an unamused look before shutting it behind him.

"No," _He_ told _me_ plainly.

"No?" I huffed (alright, so it was veering on a screech but you didn't need to know that).

"No. I just spent the entire morning on a bloody train and I'm not going to get back on one when I can take a much more pleasant ride in a cab," He explained. I narrowed my eyes at him before securing my shoulders. I faced forwards, squared myself, flipped a strand of hair over my shoulder and out of my face before I leapt on top of him, slamming his door open (hitting a child in the process) and starting to push his great old lump of a body out of the cab. "Hey! Hey!" He screeched at me, trying to hold onto something to keep him inside.

"Get!" I squawked, "Out. Of. My bloody. Cab. Now!" As I grunted out each word I accompanied it with a strong push until he was splayed across the snowy mush and I was, quite contently, sitting victor in my cab. He fixed me with a glare and reached upwards. I shrieked and shoved myself further into the warm recess behind me, but he overpowered me. Grabbing my hand, he yanked me out so I fell straight on top of him, my bag and list spilling either side of his head and so we were lying down in the snow, writhing against each other to get back up and drive away. He managed to throw me off him and into a pile of slush while I managed to use my bag to knock his pride and joy. Both winded, we struggled to get up and, just as I had managed to push myself upright to crawl into the taxi, a pompous lady carrying a goddamn poodle smacked me in the face with her wet mutt and stole our ride. I sat on the curb, mouth agape and staring after my haven.

"Well, there goes my schedule," The man groaned, pulling himself up beside me. I scoffed and managed to stand upright on the slippery curve without tripping over. I looked around for a free cab but with all the people both coming in and out it was impossible to see one that I could commandeer.

"Great!" I hissed, kicking a pile of snow that—quite nicely—landed right in his face. He gave me a dirty look before pulling himself up to tower over me. And he was very tall. He must have been around 6'5" if I was to guess. "You just have to meddle and ruin everyone else's days, don't you?" I huffed, folding my arms and glaring out at the street with all those perfect canine-loving taxi-goers.

"Me?" He whirled me around so I was facing him again. "If you hadn't tried killing me back there, we'd both be safely—and warmly—riding to our separate destinations."

"Yeah, you blame the girl in this situation. It's nice to know that you're man enough to stand up and say that the buck…stops…there," I pointed at myself and fixed him with an unimpressed stare. "You know, that has to be the most stupid thing I've ever heard. _Oh, oh no, no, oh, I don't want to take a train again for another, oh, hour. It would just be too…too awful, even though I just got off o—_Yeah right! Gimme a break." I must say, my interpretation of his accent was spot on.

"I know it must be pretty hard to understand, what you being a princess and all—"

"Princess?" I screeched. With poise and quite a fair bit off accuracy, I reached out and smacked him right across the stomach. "How the hell do you think I got here? In my magical fairy godmother's play palace? I was riding a bloody train, too!"

"Oh, well, how about you catch the tube to Oxford Street?"

"Wow, that's a great idea," I snapped at him, "How about you get one to bloody Waterbeach?"

"How about we catch it together?" He snapped back, folding his arms to match me.

"And then we can go get tea at Buckingham Palace with the Queen?" I mocked him, rolling my eyes and turning back to the street where—"YES!" I screeched, throwing my body forwards and slamming my stomach smack bang onto the icy black side of the cab. "Back off, lady!" I screeched at the mother and her two children who had been taking advantage of our argument to sneak up on the free cab, "This baby is mine!" The redheaded stranger edged further with a manic grin on his face and used his arms to push the family away so I could slide into the cab. I almost shut the door on his hand in order to drive off without him but he was too quick for me and was all the way in, smoothed against my side, before I knew what was happening.

"Oxford Street," He called out to the driver kindly while I was giving the mother outside a death glare of huge proportions. She was giving as good as she got, making sure I'd pay for doing that in front of her little ones. She sent me a rude hand gesture and I over-exaggerated biting my nails, afraid, before the redhead pulled my hands from my lips and pushed them back by my sides. "You're about five minutes away from your destination," He informed me. I kindly didn't retort and settled down further away from him before shoving my hand into my bag and pulling out my phone. I one handed brought up the List app on my Blackberry where, it informed me, I was running seven minutes behind schedule and that, to make the last train back to Cambridge, I'd have to cut out dinner and bathroom breaks. I quickly started tapping away, sending emails to the shops I was hoping to hit and saving the presents there, waiting for me to collect them at the counter or informing me that it wasn't in stock. My neck started to prickle and I slowly shifted my gaze over to my neighbour who, sure enough, was peering curiously at my screen.

"Can I help you?" I raised an eyebrow curiously at him, folding my arms so the Blackberry was hidden from view.

"That's genius," He gestured at the phone in my hand. I gave him a terse nod before gesturing for him to go back to his own little things. "Where did you get that?"

"I don't know. Overseas? Can I please get back to my life, and you to yours?" I asked him exasperated.

"Sure, sure." There was a slight pause. "Where overseas?"

"Oh my god!" I screamed into my hands.

"We're here," The cabbie called back over to us.

"Thank you," I cried out, finally happy that something was turning up the way I wanted it to. I pulled out my beautiful, beautiful wallet (it was a vintage Chanel wallet, a present for getting into Cambridge. It was black on the outside with the customary two white circles stitched on, while hot pink when it was flipped open. I loved it. It was a thing of beauty) and paying the driver his amount plus a five-pound tip for Christmas.

"Hey!" The stranger called behind me. I tried to shut the door on his ugly red mug but he chased after me, all the way down the sidewalk to the first store I needed. "I asked you a question."

"And I dodged it. Keep up now," I rolled my eyes in response.

"Wow," He laughed sourly under his breath, "I just thought you were stressed but you're actually a huge priss. I enjoyed meeting you." My mouth was gaped open as he walked away from me, his last sarcastic sentence hanging between us. I scowled before chasing after him and hitting him square in the back. He started and turned around to face me, a scowl heavy on his face as well.

"Maybe I wouldn't be such a bitch if you hadn't destroyed my Christmas!" I shrieked loudly into his face. "It was a pleasure to meet you too, you unfortunate toe-rag, and I hope you have the most unpleasant life I could ever wish upon another human being!" With that, I twirled on my toes and marched away from him, glaring at the people approaching me.

"Twit!" He voice echoed down the street behind me.

"Jackass!" I retorted, the wind carrying my voice further and more successfully. I slammed the shop door behind me and I smirked proudly as the shoppers shut him off from me, happy to have the last word. Immediately, I made my way past the crowds and over to the cash register. "Hi, my name is Poppy Robinson. I sent you an email about the silver photo frame, with the handsome guy posing with the cat on the beach?"

Six hours. It took six hours to enter four shops, pick up the right gift, pay and get out. I had skipped lunch, skipped dinner, skipped bathroom breaks and, as it was, I was running down streets as all the taxis were taken at this hour, most likely carting people from Christmas party to Christmas party. I was just trying not to miss my train that left in ten minutes, while I was still blocks away. I picked up the pace with surprising balance, thankfully not slipping on the sidewalk and letting out a huge sigh of relief upon seeing the street sign of Judd Street. I slowed my pace slightly and grimaced as I felt the sweat slide down my back. It felt like I had quite literally jumped into a hot bath and, with the disgusted looks I was being shot, I figured I looked like it as well. Entering the station was a huge relief for me. I boarded my train ten seconds before it was about to leave and collapsed into a seat, dropping my parcels by my feet. I grimaced as I caught my own reflection in the window. My face was red, my breathing was laboured, my skin was oozing sweat, making it look like some arse had thrown a pool on top of me and my hair looked like it had been electrocuted.

I looked harried. Like a beleaguered old maid who had barely coped with Christmas shopping, when I knew I thrived in stressful situations. It was my Olympics, I guess, and I always took home the gold. Yes, there were the occasional casualties, like an irritating shop keeper or—I shuddered—the redhead from earlier today but I was an athlete and this was my playing field. Anyone, everyone was the same after Christmas shopping. There were three or four other women on my train who looked like my Frankenstein sisters.

Just as the train was about to take off, Little Miss Horrid jumped on. She was tall and leggy and well, not blonde but her hair had been died a shocking red colour and she had blonde eyebrows glinting perfectly over her sunglasses (inside, at night, and in winter). Like the rest of the women, I joined in the glaring party. She looked immaculate and she was carrying twice as many bags as the rest of us. With a cringe, she looked over all of us and settled in front of me in the seat opposite. I folded my arms and settled my gaze upon her, steeling myself not to break under her perfection. She and I scanned each other, seizing each other up and it looked like she was going to win. She had perfectly kept hair, not even a bead of sweat, a perfectly made up face, probably the world's most convincing fake boobs and a wardrobe that was ripped from Vogue Italia. Then, I settled on her feet. She was wearing these overdramatic fur boots, with completely flat soles. I smirked, glancing down at my own feet. Sure, I looked worse than her but my own shoes—ankle boots with buckles—were five inches tall. At least I could wear a pair of decent shoes while shopping, unlike Miss Twiggy over there. I heard a few hums of approval from the women around me having taken her down a peg and she glared at me, sticking her nose out the window. I settled back with my own smirk and enjoyed the ride to come.

Shutting my eyes, the ride went by fast enough. An hour and a half later I was lugging my shopping up the narrow steps to my flat. The steps were on the outside of the building, unusually, and mine was at the very top which was a pain because there wasn't a lift. I was on the sixth floor with three other neighbours. One of them, Shelby, was a close friend who I had met on my first day here. She had shown me around and introduced me to Cambridge, being a fourth year herself. She was engaged to Daniel who lived with her and they were both studying to become neurosurgeons. It was a wonder how they had any time to fall in love. Then, there was an old Albanian woman next to me who was kind but nocturnal, playing loud Spanish soap operas at all hours during the night and snored loudly during the day and across from her was an old pervert who had police entering his apartment multiple times during the day. Either he was a very popular suspect for all paedophile cases in the area, or a great informant. You can guess which one I was praying for. I turned left at the staircase and unlocked the first apartment door I saw, happy to finally be at home.

It was a small one bedroomed apartment. There was an open living plan with living, dining and kitchen, a tiny bathroom and a reasonable bedroom with built in robes and, wonders of all wonders, a balcony off the living room. I had a joint air conditioner/heater that had been broken when I moved in and hadn't gotten around to fixing so it was unbearably cold and I could swear my furniture was frosting over. I dumped my bags on the couch to the right and pulled my shoes off, walking to the back of my apartment where my bedroom was. I collapsed on the bed with a huge smile of relief, not wanting anything more than to have the next six years already over and done with, before shaking my clothes off and walking to the bathroom where I stepped into the shower/bath and washed the day away. It was a pain, mostly, but it warmed me up and made me feel better. It would have felt infinitely better if the water hadn't spewed out halfway through, but that's my life, I guess. After my shower, I brushed my teeth and ignored the rumbling stomach to collapse on my bed again. I struggled into two pairs of pyjama bottoms, three layers of tops and two socks before curling up in a ball under four thick blankets, cursing the bedroom window that would not shut, no matter what I did. I deftly plugged in my Blackberry besides me and crossed off another day in my head before falling into an uneasy sleep.

Sunday, 24th December, 2028

Sunday morning. Like usual, my eyes slowly opened as the smell of coffee wafted through the window. I knew who it belonged to and I was overjoyed. Waking up was the highlight of my days for, just three months, two weeks and four days ago, Harvey Mayors moved in across from me. He was this gorgeous American. Way too dumb, crude, insensitive and the biggest tool I had yet to meet (after yesterday, however, I was fairly sure he was the second biggest) but he was egotistical enough to want to look his best at all times, at all angles, which meant that, precisely at six AM every morning, Mayors woke up, made coffee, took his shirt off and started doing pull-ups in front of his window, which happened to be directly across from mine. The first morning I had accidentally seen it, I had freaked and called all my friends to obsess over it meticulously. The next few mornings, however, it had been a welcomed sight followed shortly by something I had looked forward to. Each morning, I would pour myself a glass of orange juice and make a slice of toast and cut ¼ of a grapefruit and watch the last half-hour of his exercise before getting in my shower and thinking about it some more.

This morning was no different. I shot out of bed, wrapped my ungodly flannel nightgown tightly around my form and poured myself a mug of tar before perching myself on the Freud's couch (minus the hideous tapestry throw) propped up in one corner and looked out the window. It was amazing. The little drops of sweat slithered over his completely muscled stomach and his abs stood out from metres away. His arms looked like he could lift fully grown buffalo, and easily throw a woman onto a study desk before completely ravishing her—

So maybe I had a hidden motive. This was my one indulgence I allowed myself. As soon as I had finished my last bite, Mayors shook his head, spared my window a cocky wave and made his across to his shower. I never watched this part, not wanting to officially become disturbing. Just, more like a horny teenager. I started going through my closet, thinking of what I had planned for the day. I was going to pick up groceries from Old Man Gresham's store (he was lovely, and I had charmed my way into his specials list) and then there was a college luncheon party, hosted by Shelby and Daniel's friend, Melody something or other. All I knew was that her grandfather was an accountant and her extended family was stranger than anyone she had ever heard of and she was just getting back in touch with them as her cousin's grandson was more like her than anyone had expected. Anyway, she was hosting this huge party for all medical students and I had been invited by three separate couples all because they hadn't wanted me moping on my own during the holiday. While a little insulted, I was happy to go along if for something to do.

I decided to get dressed for the party, pre-order my groceries, maybe pick something up as a Thank You for Melody Something and then swing by on the way home to pick up the groceries. It sounded like a straight plan, so I got ready for the day. I pulled on a navy velvet dress that clung to the knees and was strapless and a pair of towering (which, for me, meant eight inches) white heels with a shiny silver toe and heel. I paired it with a white purse and a white faux-fur coat and a light blue scarf and matching beanie with a flower on it. The colour, thankfully, brought out the copper tones in my hair and emphasised my blue eyes. I looked good. Perhaps not Mayors good but enough to have him peek back through my window. With that, I exited my flat and made my way down the street to the quaint little shop that I loved so much.

I spared Mr Gresham a smile and a wave before heading over to the wine and gourmet section where I picked up an expensive looking red (which only set me back twelve pounds) and a mixed platter of dessert cheeses and savoury chocolates. It sounded fancy, although I didn't see the point of it (or the desire of it) myself. Then, I walked back over to the counter where Mr Gresham was serving an impossibly tall man in front of me.

"That will be forty nine pounds exactly," Mr Gresham smiled at the boy.

"Thanks," The man replied. I froze as I recognised the voice. _Dear god, don't let it be, dear god _please_ don't let it be_, I prayed. I peered curiously up at the man and, sure enough, he shook his head out of his beanie to reveal a head of red hair that, in this light, seemed to have a glint of brunette to it.

"You're joking," I scoffed out loud, before I could help myself. He started and turned around to see me. Like me, his reaction was to stiffen and cry out with alarm. It was nice to know I wasn't the only person in London to yell in shock at the thought of seeing someone they barely knew.

"What are you doing here?"

"Doctorate in psychology, isn't that right, dear?" Mr Gresham beamed proudly at me. He was just happy I tutored his daughter for an assignment last year and since then, he had loved me.

"Yes," I spared him a smile.

"Oh, so for him you're perfectly pleasant, but for the rest of human kind you're a stuck up—"

"Boy, you watch that tongue of yours," Mr Gresham snapped, using his walking stick to slap the tool across the knuckles. I bristled at the man before deciding to be the bigger person and ignore him. I shoved his arse out of the way of the register and placed my two things on the counter.

"Just these two for now, but I was wondering if you could hold a few items for me?" I smiled sweetly at him, figuring it would tick off redhead the most.

"Of course, dear," He grinned widely in response.

"Thanks, Mr G," I smiled before pulling out my Blackberry. "Alright, I'd like a medium baked ham, a large turkey—not one of those turduckens you keep pushing but a real turkey—a leg of lamb enough to feed twelve, a batch of those King Tiger Prawns that we both know you have in the back, one sack of potatoes and mixed vegetables, a bushel of apples, a thing of mint, thyme and rosemary (separately, of course), five cartons of eggs, six bottles of milk, a pack of sugar, eight sticks of butter and two bottles of your oldest brandy," I smiled sweetly at him again while he wrote it all down with a flourish.

"Excuse me," The redhead snapped, leaning back across me and grabbing his wine and cheese/chocolate pack as well as his condoms and case of beer, "I was in the middle of paying here." I shot him a stare which, strangely enough, he went silent at before standing back quietly. I smiled at his response, an honest to god smile because of him for the first time, before turning back to the old man. He said it would be waiting for me at five with no extra expenses so long as I turned up on time before pulling up my total on the register. I was out of the store just as the redhead finished and caught up with me as I turned right.

He was following me. Sure, I figured he might just be going in the same direction at first, maybe even to the same street, but then he turned into the path that went to the back of Melody's building's garden where she was having the party in the rather big shed that was more of a rumpus room, according to Shelby.

"Okay, just what is your problem?" I snapped, whirling around to glare at the man. We were standing at the letter box and my legs were freezing but I really thought we needed to get this confrontation over and done with. Get him off my back once and for all.

"You're the one with the problem," He sneered back at me, rolling his eyes slightly.

"Yeah, that's why I was following you five blocks away—oh no, no, no. No, no, no. That was you!" I kicked a pile of snow at him but it only served to anger him more.

"Me?" He gaped at me, "Maybe if you weren't such a self-involved pain in the arse then maybe you'd have realised I was going to the same goddamn party." I went quiet at that and considered the possibility. Surely the universe didn't hate me that much. "Happy now, princess?" I narrowed my eyes at him before slapping him right across his collarbone (I wasn't heartless enough to aim for his face). He shot me a glare and held at his collarbone.

"If you call me princess one more time," I warned him through gritted teeth. He seemed to look apologetic for a second before there was a loud squeal and my day got about a thousand times worse.

"Hugo!" A shrill voice screamed. Tottering down the driveway like a child in her mother's shoes was the fake redhead from the train. She was wearing purple jeans and a bright maroon top that plunged all the way to her belly button but, pathetically, she was wearing this pair of black strappy heels that didn't fit her right and she found difficult to walk in. I smirked at her for trying to copy me (maybe she wasn't, but I had the strongest feeling she was) before picking up my bag from the snow, where it had dropped during the argument. The girl flung her arms around the redhead—Hugo, I was guessing—before sending me a glare. Her eyes widened as she recognised me and I almost flinched at the power of her hate. Thankfully, I was stronger than that. And, Shelby was running after her with a bag (bright pink and feathery which I assumed belonged to the girl and not Shelby).

"Just who the hell do you think you are?" She screeched at me.

"Sylvie, we've gone over this," Hugo forced her away with a loud groan. It almost looked like he was repulsed or bored with her. Perhaps there was some hope for the male half of humanity after all.

"Hugh-gee—" I snorted loudly at the nickname, overjoyed that I was being held privy to this conversation. "Do you have a problem with my boyfriend?" She hissed. Wow. I really, honest to god felt sorry for the both of them. I didn't know which one could do better. I decided he could because he seemed like he had the potential to be half-decent when he wasn't around me. And she really did seem bland.

"Really, what is your problem?" He finally exploded. His face went red, his muscles bursting in his neck and his eyes flashing dangerously. He actually looked like, well, like a vengeful god. A redheaded Zeus. And it was definitely working for him. While Shelby and Sylvie, was it, backed off from him, I felt myself being drawn closer. I was so attracted to the wrong guys.

"You really ought to aim higher, Hugh-gee," I whispered to him excitedly before pulling back and walking up the drive, linking my arm with Shelby.

"What was that about?" She asked me hesitantly.

"Well, he's a major tool I met yesterday when he tried to steal a cab from me, and I met the neon slut-fest on the train coming back from London. Everyone suddenly seems to know everyone else in England, apparently," I shrugged. Then I felt a heel dig into my back. I wasn't aware that we were being followed, but apparently we were. I cried out in pain and turned around to see Slut-fest pointing a stick at me. "Did you just jab me with a twig?" I screeched outraged. What kind of nut job was she?

"I am so sorry," Hugo leapt forwards, shooting Sylvie the dirtiest glare that I could possibly imagine. He picked me up, or at least tried to, but it felt like my entire back was bursting into needles of coral or something. It stung madly and, to be honest, the snow seemed to be like the only thing that helped.

"Pops?" Shelby cried, leaning down at my side. I knew she was checking my vitals but it was really just making me feel worse.

"Pops, eh?" Hugo smirked at me. He was holding my hand and a cooling pinch was going up and down my spine, making it feel loads better. Whatever he was doing, it was working.

"Poppy," I told him with a shrug. He peeled my coat away from me and winced loudly as he glanced at my back. He shielded it away from Shel for some reason and kept up his technique.

"Go get some ice," He told her. She jumped up and sped-walked her way back to the party to fetch some ice. "Nettles, how could you hex a muggle?" He hissed at his girlfriend. I huffed loudly, having no idea what on earth he had just said.

"English, please?" I scoffed, hissing slightly as the pain was starting to numb. I wasn't sure what was better, but, for some strange reason, Hugo was starting to make me feel much more comfortable than anyone had before. I rested my head against his shoulder and prayed no one noticed.

"Look at you!" Sylvie shrieked, "She's all over you!" Oops. Well, she did just whack me with a stick. It didn't exactly make me feel bad for leaning on her boyfriend.

"So? I broke it off with you six years ago, it shouldn't matter who leans on me now." His tone sounded similar to mine but I brushed it off with the injury.

"Tell her you're uninclined to stand for her childish behaviour," I muttered under my breath.

"And I'm completely uninclined to stand for your childish behaviour!" Hugo snapped, pulling me closer to him. I grinned wildly into his neck and—I'm definitely sure it was because of the pain—I pressed my chapped lips against it. He shivered under me but I ignored it using my hands to grasp his top tightly.

"Hugh-gee—" She gaped.

"Stop calling me that!" He growled, extending his arm forwards to her. I rolled my eyes under the lids but nobody seemed to notice that much, or at all. "And I'm sorry but I'm going to have to report you."

"For what?" I scoffed, "Having a temper tantrum?" I felt his hand go back to behind my neck while Shelby's foots pounded through the snow and placed the ice on my back. It felt really nice and so I pushed myself away from Hugo and into Shelby, although I kept one of my hands firmly grasped in his. There was just something reassuring to knowing he was there for me and, while disliked me, was a decent enough human being to choose right over wrong, right being using your words and wrong being hurling sticks at people you didn't like. I felt him snort and shake a little with laughter, but he quickly schooled his features and shot a look at Sylvie. I had no idea of his expression, but whatever it was she burst into tears and suddenly disappeared with a loud pop. Shelby and I were a little flabbergasted at the amateur display of magic but I was impressed that she had a hobby, even if it was as lame as magician training.

"Come on," Hugo gently put his arms around my waist where it didn't hurt and heaved me up to my feet. It should have been very cold, having gotten up from sitting in the snow, but all I felt was warm and tingly. "We should get you to rest. She really seemed to hurl that…" He paused slightly here, contorting his features into a mask of bewilderment, "That…_stick_…at you." I rolled my eyes, something in me snapping and just knowing he was giving her some leeway.

"You know what?" I pushed his arms away from me, "I'm all better, thanks."

"What?" He blinked at me. I was safely standing on my own two feet and pulled my coat to cover my back against the breeze.

"I just don't feel like hanging around with you lying to my face. See ya," I snapped, aiming to march off. Before I could take a decent step, his arm sprang out and his hand curled around my wrist, preventing me from going anywhere. He was unpredictably strong for being so scrawny and no matter how hard I yanked my arm to get away from him, it only made him come closer to me, barring all escape efforts.

"I just helped you out even though you were being…well, you," He growled down at me.

"Oh really?" I narrowed my eyes at him, "So that's why you covered for her?"

"Cover for her? Maybe you forget, but I was on the ground with you the entire time. Helping _you_!" He yelled in my face. His veins were starting to bulge in his neck and I couldn't tear my eyes away. It was making my lower stomach get all hot and tingly itself.

"And maybe you forget that I'm not blind," I yelled back just as fiercely, "I noticed that hesitation. _Oh, well, oh, yes it was, well, horrid of her, oh, to throw_—" I was cut off by him jerking me flush against his body and tightly grasping both of my arms so I wouldn't escape.

"I," He hissed, glaring down at me. His eyes were starting to flash and I couldn't help notice how close we were to one another, "Do. Not. Sound. Like. That." With every word he shook me a little, just to really get the message into my head. I could feel my heart rate spike and my adrenaline peak as he looked so…raw, just looking down at me with those flashing, hooded eyes. I briefly wondered if I could make them flash with another emotion but snapped back to reality. There was no way in hell he was ever going to win over me.

"Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that's what you sound like to everyone else," I gave him a pitying smile that was quite full of mockery and condescension and his face turned a bright shade of red. Somewhere I heard Shelby excuse herself and I barely acknowledged her departure, too focused on this Hugo man in front of me. His face clouded and I smirked triumphantly up at him until, suddenly, the colour drained from it and he looked normal and calm again. It was disappointing, actually.

"Let's go see if your groceries are ready," He snapped, pulling back and turning away down the street. I glanced back at the party quickly and went to cry out to him when he called over his shoulder, "Either I'm going to get them with you, or on my own and I'll keep them for myself." I scowled at his back and quickly ran after him, not willing to surrender to this Christmas monster. I kept a foot behind him, enough to know that I was near him but not enough to make conversation. About three streets away he started humming under his breath, a happy little tune that sounded a bit like a distorted Christmas carol. With a shake of my head, I decided to squash that little glint of happiness within him.

"You know I don't know who I feel most sorry for," I called over the wind. He acted like he hadn't heard me, so I continued on without prompt, "There's Sylvie who clearly has a disturbing mental illness for acting like that and dressing like that, plus on top of everything she seems to have an infatuation with, well, _you_. And then there's you, a human being who surely hasn't done anything bad enough to deserve the nickname Hugh-gee." I snickered under my breath and Hugo shot me an amused look over his shoulder and missed a half-step so I would fall in line with him.

"It's quite even," He relented finally. I sent him an honest to god smile and it seemed to slow his step down a bit but I didn't think too much into it. It was probably just the shock of knowing I could.

"Honestly, I would have put you down yesterday if I knew you were going to be called Hugh-gee today. It's not even a proper nickname," I rolled my eyes. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and bumped my shoulder with a cautious smile.

"Then what is?"

"I had a Hugo in my class once. We called him Hog, though, because he was Hugo Hoggery's grandson," I smiled up at him.

"Who's Hugo Hoggery?" I paused and gaped up at him. He was quite literally the very first person I had ever met who didn't know Hugo Hoggery.

"Hugo Hoggery? The famous author? Wrote The Number Thirteen sequence? Redefined literature and time travel in one series? Named world's sexiest man nine times in his younger days?" He stared back at me blankly, "He's a gorgeous, smart and humorous man who just happened to become five times richer than the Queen in the first week of his final book's opening? How can you not know him?" I shrieked, outraged. I could feel my eyes as wide as saucers and he started to laugh at my expression. "That's so sad," I blinked at his laughing face. He gestured for me to continue on and I walked on ahead, occasionally glancing up at him in disbelief.

"So, are you going to start calling me Hog, now?" He snickered a few moments later. I was suddenly brought back down to earth, remembering what we were talking about before.

"Well, if the name fits," I snickered myself. His hand reached out and jutted my shoulder and I laughed—really, truly _laughed_ for the first time this holiday, him joining me. "So, what is the deal between you two, anyway?" I asked hesitantly after we had both calmed down.

"The what with me and who?"

"Deal with Sylvie," I repeated. He still stared blankly at me, "Like are you filing for a restraining order or shamelessly using her for sex…?" He chuckled a little bit and shook his head. One of his arms came to rest around my shoulders and it was warm enough for me to pull myself closer into his body.

"The deal," He shot me a smile, "Is that I dumped her six years ago—when we were both thirteen—after dating for a fortnight and she seems not to have gotten over it, although I have suspicions it has more to do with my family and my talents than actually to do with me. She's a family friend, though, so I can't completely cut her out of my life no matter how much I'd like to. My cousin and her are practically inseparable, although my cousin is an actual human being who I can tolerate without alcohol."

"Oh God," I stifled a laugh with my gloved hand, "I'm so sorry. I had an ex like that and it was fairly horrible, too. Of course, we had been dating three years and he ended up cheating on me with my cousin, so celebrations were awkward… Sucks, doesn't it?" He sniggered at me and pulled me closer right before he opened the door to the shop for me as we entered. Mr Gresham was sitting at the counter, playing Solitaire happily on his own. My purchase was marked in a nice big wooden box next to him, ice dripping down onto the shop floor because of the warm. "Hello again," I called over to him. He jumped and beamed when he saw us before coming around the counter and pushing the box over to me.

"What are you two doing back so early? It's only twelve thirty," He informed us. I shrugged and felt a little twinge in my back, knowing what I was doing leaving the party so early, but I didn't want to tell him.

"We decided to come pick up the groceries," Hugo smiled pleasantly at the man. He nodded and reached over to pick up the box. He faulted a bit at its weight but I pretended like I hadn't noticed. Saved me from lugging it down numerous blocks. I was saving all my strength for the six flights of stairs. I pulled out my wallet again and placed the payment needed plus an extra twenty pounds on the counter for Mr Gresham before wishing him a Merry Christmas and walking out of the store, Hugo barely staggering behind me. He kept up fairly well for carrying a huge box, especially after he dropped it to take a break. After I had shouted at him for destroying my food and demanding he compensate me, he muttered something under his breath and picked it up like it weighted the same as a balloon, not even wincing in the slightest. He continued on jovially, making unrestrained conversation until we reached my flat's building. There, I asked for him to put it down and waited to watch him walk away, although he did no such thing.

"So?" I raised my eyebrows at him. He matched my expression before getting a smirk across his face and leaning down to somewhere around my height.

"So, I had a really good tim—"

"Not that," I rolled my eyes, pushing him back to his normal stance. "When are you going to leave?"

"After I put this box on your kitchen counter," He told me surely. I laughed at that.

"You're not going anywhere near my kitchen counter," I informed him testily, folding my arms across my chest.

"Then I'll put it on your bed," He rolled his eyes down at me. I lashed out, slapping his shoulder for being so crude and he managed to dodge it enough so that I barely felt his jumper graze my fingertips. "Look, I already know I'm not going to have sex with you—"

"Well lucky me," I screeched. This time, I could feel my face turning red, "It's nice to know that I'm such a despicable person that I can repel even _you_."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He huffed, his expression turning dangerous.

"It means that if I could drive back a distasteful man like yourself, it suddenly makes sense why I don't have a boyfriend," I sneered at him, reaching down to grab my box. I could barely lift it an inch off the ground and just as it flew four feet upwards, I realised Hugo was holding it the other side. I let out a snarl of annoyance and disgust and he echoed it, calling out so suddenly that I dropped my side of the box.

"You there!" I started. "Can you tell me what apartment this woman lives in?"

"Give it a break," I hissed, "No one's stupid enough to—"

"Six oh one," A voice cried out jovially, "Spare key is on the top of the door." I spun around enraged to glare at the traitor. Surprise, surprise, it was the pervert turned informer. Oh course he would be the one to squeal. I went to open my mouth to curse at him when Hugo interrupted me.

"Thank you, kind sir." Then, he dodged around me and made his way up the stair. I screeched loudly and ran after him, trying to block him from reaching the top level and, more significantly, my home address.

"You can't do this," I huffed at him, "I'll report you for breaking and entering!"

"Give it a rest, sweetheart," He sniggered, "You're helpless." I felt my mouth gape open before I slammed my hands into the middle of his back. He faulted, staggering enough so that I could jump in front of him and grab the box from his hands. It split right down the centre and the lamb bounced off the cement floor and down a level. We were on three, halfway there, and I wasn't going to give up now.

"Look what you did, you imbecilic fool!" Hugo simply sent me a glare, grabbed the box back into his chest and marched straight past me.

"You might want to go get that," He yelled over his shoulder. I was completely fuming. But, I really did want to go get my lamb. I jumped down the stairs, four at a time, grabbed the rump and sprinted up the staircase. He wasn't on four, five or six but my door was wide open and there was loud singing and opening of cupboards and fridges. I marched in with my lamb and slammed the door to see Hugo pottering around my kitchen, unpacking the box. He barely spared me a look, only to give a nod at the lamb I had in my hands. I marched right over to him, set down the lamb and slapped him right across his face, not holding back. He froze and glared down at me, his anger suddenly all appearing on his face.

"How _dare_ you!" I shrieked. I lifted my hand to slap him again, but he grabbed it and forced it back down to my side. My breath picked up as we silently glared at each other. His eyes were turning a misty, stormy grey among the blue and his face was close to mine, but I still wanted it closer. The longer I stared at him, the more the fight drifted from my head until all I was left with was the anger and longing fuelling my body. I yanked his shirt closer to me, bringing him down to my level, and he looked like he was about to start screaming in my face when I suddenly closed the gap between us.

It felt like my entire life just fit together. However crazy and childish that sounded, finally kissing Hugo felt like something had just clicked within me and all the anger just melted away. I was starting to get a little embarrassed (alright, mortified) and went to pull back when he yanked me closer to him and sat me up on the counter, starting an attack on my neck. I wrapped my legs around his waist to hold him there and arched to the right to give him more access. With his height, he pushed me downwards and laid over me, not being hindered by the height or width of the bench top. He brought his mouth back to mine and forced his tongue inside without permission, leading me to press myself closer to him. There was a pause where we both needed to breathe and I panted against his skin, trying to regain my head.

"I'm still furious with you," I told him plainly, although I couldn't say that wasn't a lie.

"Are you?" He asked me. He obviously doubted me, and he was right to do so. All I felt right now was affection and desire and knowing that I would have someone who was finally on my level. I didn't let him see my reaction, though, so I jumped off the bench top and guided him back into my bedroom where the rest of it was a blur.

I blacked out in some spots. That was the first thing I was aware of once it was over and done with. He had made me feel so ecstatic that, thinking back over it, I had completely left my body and only felt pleasure. That had never happened before.

I was curled up against his side. He was on the side of the bed against the wall while I was closer to the window and the closet. The mirror directly in front of the bed gave me a good view of the two of us and, I hated to admit it, it didn't look bad. Hugo was splayed behind me. He was resting one arm behind his head, muscle bulging, while his other arm was wrapped securely around my waist. His legs were intertwined with mine and he was smiling down at me blissfully, probably thinking I didn't know. Our red hair was mixed together, my copper against his bright ginger, and it was an interesting mix, particularly in the day light because little pieces of brunette shone through. It was entrancing but I was more worried about what I had just done. My Blackberry beeped besides me so I shifted, pulled myself away and leant over the bedside table to get to my bag that had fallen to the floor and emptied itself across the carpet. I adjusted the sheet around me to cover myself and crawled on the floor to reach the phone. It was buzzing and glowing and, in bright black letters, it read RUBY. I answered it immediately and put it to my ear.

"Yeah?" I asked her once off. I could hear her blinking over the phone but she eventually got around to talking.

"Are we doing presents? At your lunch?"

"Yeah," I nodded again, wanting to not be in this mess.

"Okay, have you gotten everyone something?"

"Yeah."

"And you haven't given them out already to open on Christmas morning?"

I hesitated, "Yeah."

"Okay," She stretched that syllable out, "Is something going on over there?"

"Yeah."

"Are you being held at gunpoint?" She asked, excitedly. I rolled my eyes. Sure she was one of my best friends, but honestly. Gunpoint? "Okay, is there a guy there?"

"Yeah," I relented sadly. There was a loud squeal on the other end of the phone.

"Okay, talk later. And I expect all the details!"

"Yeah," I shrugged, hoping there were no details to give.

"See you, you slut."

"Okay, bye," I hung up. Definitely wasn't looking forward to the next phone call with her.

"Yeah?" Hugo chuckled behind me. I rolled my eyes at him and re-adjusted my sheet. He was sitting there proudly in all his glory, leg perched up and everything. I felt something stir in my stomach and I was pulled back onto the bed by it. I collapsed next to him and ran my fingers through his hair (which was surprisingly softer than I expected) and kissed him softly on the mouth.

"Yeah," I nodded slowly at him. He laughed loudly at my response and rolled me over so he was on top once again. I put my hands either side of his face and sunk into the kiss when he pulled back suddenly, giving the window the strangest look. "What?" I whispered, trying to keep quiet.

"There is a naked man," He deadpanned, "Waving at me." I looked backwards to see the very outline of Mayors. I picked myself upright from under Hugo and looked over to see him thrusting at us and gesturing for him to come over and join us.

"Oh, yeah that's Mayors," I waved it off, leaning up to kiss him again. Hugo sat up and forced his back against the wall, out of sight of my neighbour.

"I can't do that," He hissed at me.

"You're still young," I huffed, "I'm sure you have enough energy left for a second round."

"Not that," He glared at me, "Being watched."

"Oh," I shrugged. "Why should it matter?"

"It matters to me," He growled, giving me a look of disbelief.

"Alright," I surrendered my hands, "But it really shouldn't." I lifted myself out of bed and across to my chest of draws where I pulled on an oversized tank top that dipped low enough to see my boob on the side and a pair of yoga shorts. Probably not the most practical in winter especially considering my heater was broken, but fine enough for my purpose. I threw Hugo his trousers and sweater before leaving the room and going to the kitchen. There, I pulled out a tub of yoghurt and started eating while Hugo came out moments later.

"How doesn't that bother you?" He snapped at me.

"Well," I paused, not wanting to compliment him but not really wanting to lie either, "Have you looked at yourself lately?" And it was true. What I had previously been expecting to see was scrawny and skinny but, after taking off the ridiculous clothing, he actually turned out to be very, very toned. Even his butt could bounce coins off of. The inside of his thighs were ridiculously muscled and his arms looked like they could pick up Mayors and the buffalo together while washing his delicates on those washboard abs. It was amazing how he could hide it all behind his cashmere jumper but just knowing what was under it was enough to make me hot again. Hugo seemed confused by that momentarily but then a huge smirk covered his face and I rolled my eyes at his typical male response. He reached down and planted a lingering kiss on my lips before making his way to the door.

"It was great seeing you again," He beamed at me before closing the door after him. I scowled at his retreating form. He couldn't have at least stayed for a tea? Way to make a girl feel cheap. I huffed and continued eating my yoghurt, eventually making my way back inside my room to put on some decent clothing. I decided that that night I didn't want to start preparing and I'd leave all of it for tomorrow, Christmas day, before settling down on my couch with a heated wheat bag on my feet and watching old Total Wipeout re-runs until eventually I fell asleep where I was.

My aim for this holiday was not to become unorganised or lazy or to sleep with someone I barely knew and so far, I was zero for zero. This holiday was probably sadder than the last because this year I was actually trying and it was following the exact same pattern. Alright, so it wasn't the same but the outcomes were and to me that was somehow worse.

Monday 25th December, 2028

I was happy to get the day off. Not having to go to classes was a great way to spend any holiday. I'm fairly sure we all knew that. My muscles were in spasm after the best romp of my life followed by sleeping on my tiny couch. It wasn't a good combination. Anyway, I pulled myself to a standing position and crossed my flat to my bedroom and pulled on a pair of fur-lined track pants, ugg boots and a long sleeved top with a thick, woolly jumper over it that fell to my thighs. When I was sufficiently warm, I went straight to the kitchen and began to prepare vegetables, the easiest meal by far. It didn't take too long as I sang along with Christmas music and checked my phone and emails multiple times as both kept buzzing with incoming messages and even called my brother to torture him as it was still the 24th where he was, and late as well. I put the raw vegetables covered on the counter and started to make the desserts from scratch. It was pretty smooth sailing and I was halfway through beating my brandy butter when there was a knock on the door. I paused, angry at whichever thoughtless person was interrupting me on a holiday, but picked up the bowl (still whipping frantically) and went over to the door. I glanced shifted the bowl in my hands and opened the door as wide as the security chain would let me to see Hugo standing on the other side. His face split into a relieved grin when he saw me, but mine remained a stoic mask indicating the opposite.

"What do you want, pig?" I hissed at him, my wrist getting faster as my anger powered it.

"I thought it was hog," He asked. A little confusion trickled into his eyes but I quickly slammed a reply in his face before the door joined it.

"No, you're a despicable pig." He started to bang on my door and I ignored it, turning the Christmas Carols remixes up louder so I couldn't hear anything else. I was naïve enough to believe that would be the end of it. I jumped as the music suddenly stopped, leaving me with deaf ears and an angry redhead by the speaker. "How—"

"The chain was weak," He spat. My eyes zeroed in on the brass chain that hadn't broken at anything, even when my evil niece had locked me out and chain cutters couldn't break through. It had melted. The damn chain was dripping down the wood. Whatever crazy shit he had done to it, it had worked. My mouth gaped open in shock, all other emotion leaving me as I dropped the bowl on the bench. "Now, tell me what you're overacting at now, you cracked bint." My eyes fluttered as I regained exactly who I was and who he was. I turned back and saw he had come closer to me so he was standing four feet away now.

"Like you don't know," My mouth moved without me needing to think through it exactly, "Did you take a blowtorch to my door?"

"I don't know," He ignored my question. Hugo stalked forwards and gently placed his hands on my waist. "I thought we were on good terms when I left."

"You left," I spat at him. And I was back. I slammed my hands against his chest as the cheap and inadequate feeling washed over me and I realised just how much of a worthless dick he was.

"Yeah," He told me in a 'No Duh' tone, "And now I'm back. What am I not getting here?" My face crumpled with offense and I used my spoon to whack him. He caught it with his hand and brandy butter melted slightly because of his warmth and dripped down his wrist.

"Are you really that stupid?" I asked him furiously. He shot me an indignant glare and yanked the wooden spoon from my hand.

"Apparently so." His face suddenly became a blinding epiphany. "Wait, are you mad because I didn't attach myself to you like some clingy, prissy pretty boy?" I stayed quiet. When he said it like that it made me sound stupid.

"No," I finally yelled as his face turned patronising and a smile pulled at his lips.

"That's so cute. I wasn't aware you were a little girl on the inside," He cooed. I lurched at him and began slapping wherever he'd let me, although he was laughing instead of crying out in pain which only made my ferocity worse.

"Okay, fine," I shrieked, pulling away and glaring at him, "I was angry that you left me like I was some kind of contemptible, pitiful prostitute. So sue me. Anyone with a slither of a heart would feel the exact same as me." His face had turned serious at that sentence and he was still looking down at me but instead of amusement it was regret. In a move much unlike the Hugo that I had been introduced to, he came over to me and engulfed me in a hug. It was nice. He was warm and smelt like brandy. "You're still a pig," I mumbled into his shirt.

"I know," He nodded. We just stood there for minutes, totally happy with not moving. Finally, he pulled back and pulled out a box from his pocket and presented it to me. "This is why I left," He told me, "I needed to pre-order it." I raised an eyebrow at him before grabbing the present and turning my back to him. I tore into it and saw a velvet case, which wasn't a great sign. I pulled it open and there, laying in the middle in a gorgeous forest green felt was a creamy gold metal phone case for my Blackberry with Hugo Hoggery's signature scrawled along the back. My jaw dropped open in amazement. He had been thoughtful. And, well, wonderful. I stayed frozen to my spot with my mind whirring at a thousand miles an hour, knowing I didn't have a present, or the money, to respond in kind. Suddenly two blue eyes popped up in front of mine and I focused my eyesight onto his smiling face. "So I did good, then?"

"Well," I corrected him, annoyed at his horrible grammar that grated on my ears.

"Right," He cussed under his breath, "I did well."

"But you _are_ good," I said in kind. I didn't need to reach up to kiss him in thanks this time because he had crouched down to my height, "You're great." It was like I had given him the best gift in the world, not the other way around. He hummed against my lips and I slipped closed the box with a snap and used one hand to shove it into his front pocket while using my other to wrap around his neck and pull him closer to me with one of those stupid smiles on my face. I kissed him for longer this time, moving my body closer to his and I think we both realised what was to come. He hitched me up around his hips which made me giggle out of surprise before he carried me across to the couch and, I rolled my eyes, closed the curtains shut and double checked twice to make sure they were secure. Then, he came back to me and it was like a repeat of yesterday, only much tenderer and slower. Angry sex was great but it was the only kind I had ever had. This was new to me.

When we finished this time, Hugo securely wrapped me under his arm, pulled me as close to his chest as was humanly possible and whispered into my ear, telling me he wasn't going anywhere. I grunted in a nonchalant way but I felt the blissful smile on my face before I realised that it completely aligned with the feelings radiating around my body. I shut my eyes shut and curled into him, being strangely warm without any clothing on in my subzero flat.

My phone began ringing at six PM. It jolted both of us out of our dozes and I pulled on a shirt—his bright orange one with some sort of black sports logo on it—and got up to the kitchen counter to answer it.

"Hello?" My legs were warm, I noticed. As Hugo stared shamelessly at them (which made me feel brilliant, by the way), they weren't chilly or covered in goose bumps. A stupid thought entered my mind, a horribly appalling girly thought that somehow connected Hugo to the sudden warmth. I shrugged it off as the person on the other end spoke.

"Pops," He screamed brightly at me. It was Bucky, one of the first friends I had made in my philosophy course. He loved the stuff and was fabulous at it and we remained great friends afterwards.

"Bucks," I cried out happily. It had been a little over a week since I had last heard from him, way too long if you asked me. "What are you up to?"

"Not much. I was just calling to double check what time we're on for tomorrow."

"It's still twelve," I assured him.

"See!" He yelled out to someone on his end, "Still twelve." I giggled slightly and rolled my eyes at his antics. Probably his girlfriend Georgia, who was also coming. "Alright, we'll be there around one."

"It's twelve!" I yelled into the phone, trying to get the message to him.

"See you, Pops."

"TWEL—!" He hung up before I could finish my sentence. I put the phone down with a huff and saw Hugo watching me curiously.

"What's happening tomorrow?"

"My Christmas lunch," I shrugged, sending venomous looks at the phone.

"And were you going to invite me?" I paused, then looked up at him.

"I don't know. Do you want to meet my friends?"

"Yes." Wow. There wasn't even a hesitation before he replied.

"Okay," I paused again, trying to think this over. I walked back over to him and laid my body across his. I figured staring down my cleavage might soften the blow. "I'm not sure if I want them to meet you," I explained softly.

"Oh." I could tell by his face that it wasn't a hurt 'Oh'. It was an angry 'Oh'. "So you're allowed to mistreat me for leaving you after we have sex and treating you like you were worthless but you're so ashamed of me that you can't even introduce me to your crowd of people?" He shoved me angrily off of him so I landed on the floor with a thud. He sat up and put his head in his hands, muttering to himself, while I glanced up at him and tried to approach the subject again.

"It's definitely not that," I shook my head.

"Oh, then what else could it possibly be?" He yelled, suddenly getting to his feet. His hands swished about in the air madly and so, feeling smaller than necessary, I copied him so I was standing myself.

"Trust me, it could be any other reason under the sun," I told him unhappily. There were no cracks in my voice and no room for argument, which only made him madder. "But right now it isn't any of your concern."

"We've had sex twice," He shouted, gesturing at the couch, "I spent a lot of money on your present and you've met my cousin before. What else do you need?"

"Time!" I screeched, finally matching his level of ire. "I've known you for two full days! And suddenly you just expect to be invited to a private party that all my closest friends will be at? I don't even know what we are yet, you can't just put this pressure on me and make me the bad guy when clearly we all know who's really at fault here. And FYI, I already gave you your present—girls don't _do_ what I just did. And knowing your cousin is a fluke, a coincidence." There was a pause while Hugo readied the argument in his head.

"You don't feel that?" He asked, gesturing between the two of us, "The connection? You're the only person I've ever known who I can feel like I can be entirely myself around—plus, the sex is great. You're my girlfriend at least in my head and I don't give a flying fuck about how long we've known each other for. I'm mature enough to realise that when something like this comes along you have to be a sadistic, moronic half-wit to let something like this pass us by. And we're none of those things." That was sweet, I admitted to myself, but I still didn't want to invite him.

"So what, we're together because in your head you want us to be?" I scoffed at the supposedly preposterous idea. He rolled his eyes at me and somehow he knew what I really thought about it. I guess what he was saying was true. Somehow, even though it had been a total of no time, we were somehow a couple without meaning to. We just fit together and understood each other without any effort. I wasn't sure how I felt about that, but it was nice to be accepted so unconditionally. Hugo leant down and kissed me deeply, his hands going around my waist so many times over that I could have sworn they were twenty feet long. Finally I pulled back and gave him a faux-annoyed look. "Put your trousers on and get out of here." He pressed a final kiss on my forehead before putting on his jeans and shoes and turning to me expectantly. I responded with a blank look.

"Can I have my shirt back, please?" He smirked.

"Oh," I looked down and saw the blindingly orange top still on me. "No."

"Do you really expect me to walk home without a shirt?" His eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

"You own a jacket, moron." He gave me an unamused look but I turned my back on him, showing he wouldn't be getting it back. With one final kiss (I don't think either of us could get enough) he left, dropping the subject of argument completely. I shook myself out of the daze he had unleashed on the flat and began preparing the meat for tomorrow's lunch as well as pushing my couch up against the wall and creating a dining table out of a few card tables in the middle of the living room. I set the prepared meats in the fridge and checked the time. Ten o'clock. I decided to go to bed so I was well rested and could get up on time to start cooking things. I typed out a To-Do List on my Blackberry in its new case before plugging it in for the night and falling asleep.

Tuesday 26th December, 2028

My phone buzzed loudly at seven AM on the dot. I got up, showered and marvelled at how my flat still retained some of its warmth from Hugo still. I pulled on a pair of leggings and an oversized jumper/knit dress and some ugg boots so I was comfortable and warm before I tied my hair back into a ponytail and began cooking. Everything was in at eight so we'd be ready to eat between twelve thirty and one o'clock. I checked those jobs off my list on my phone before going and wrapping presents. Once that was all done, I set them under my white mini-tree with little shiny blue and silver baubles and organised them so they had perfect aesthetics. By that time it was around ten thirty in the morning so I decided to get ready. I curled my hair so it was soft and shiny and bounced whenever I turned or walked or breathed or just moved generally. I then applied minimal make-up that made my eyes pop and a bright red shade of lipstick that clashed nicely with my hair. Then I pulled on a multi-coloured dress. It was mostly a teal colour with baggy purple sleeves that clung to my forearm and thick, white lines and squiggles on the main body that resembled semi-geometric shapes. I loved it and hadn't gotten a chance to wear it up until now. I looked good, I noticed, and even better when I paired it with black strappy shoes. I might have been closer to freezing than comfortable, but I looked good and, to me, that was all that mattered.

At exactly eleven fifty I set out a tray of drinks (all alcoholic with one or two apple juices for Georgia who I suspected to be pregnant) on the table by the door. I was completely ready for them then and, while I was waiting for the first guest to arrive, I checked on the meal. It was going fabulously and not only did it warm up the flat but it let off a great aroma. I excitedly squealed when there was a knock on the door and I ran over to open it, checking around the room to make sure every detail was perfect before I let the person it.

The first there was Ruby, who shoved a bag of presents into my arms and immediately started grilling me for details about the man who had been in my bedroom without even a hello. She yapped on indignantly about me keeping details from her but thankfully another person arrived and I went to answer the door while she picked up one of the fullest champagnes. The next guests were Sammy and Lionel, probably the only gay people I had met in England. They were fabulous in the untraditional way, being so masculine that Ruby didn't want to continue on with the relationship conversation we were having before. Lionel turned on the television and watched a re-run of a soccer (football! I have to learn!) game while Sammy and Ruby spoke about school. Somewhere around quarter past, Shelby and Daniel made their way across the hallway and let themselves in while Georgia and Bucky turned up at around one thirty and I, with Shelby and Georgia's help, began to bring the food out to the tables. Everyone was seated and talking loudly, excitedly catching up, when there was a final knock on the door. I stood still, going over in my head who it could possibly be before my mind settled on one suspect. My face turned livid and I grabbed a jacket from the coffee table next to the door before yanking the door open, pushing Hugo further back into the hallway and slamming the door shut before anyone else could see.

"What," I hissed, poking his gorgeously firm chest, "Are you doing here?"

"I came to my girlfriend's to help her with her Christmas lunch that I know is very important to her." He held up a bag that had wrapped bottles of wine in it (ten in all) before gesturing to the door. "So is everybody here already?" I glowered at his back while he somehow unlocked my flat from the outside without a key and opened it wide open. The conversation dropped inside when they all turned to see Hugo casually grinning in the doorway without a care in the world. I stormed inside, set the coat down again and shut the door so quietly and so focused that I wouldn't break it in anger. As it was the chain had melted to the frame and it shook whenever somebody walked past. "Hello, everyone," He greeted them all, "I'm Hugo Weasley." So that was his last name, I mused quietly to myself. They all muttered polite greetings back to him while shooting me curious looks. Ruby's face looked like it would split at any time now and I wanted to kill Hugo.

"He invited himself," I explained to them although it didn't exactly answer any of their questions. I pulled another chair out of my arse for him and ended up dragging one of my kitchen bar seats across so I was two feet higher than everyone else and my knees where touching the table top.

"So," Sammy paused, looking at the two of us. Hugo was seated to my left and was sitting close enough that his arm was casually pressed against my bottom.

"How do you know Poppy?" Ruby asked. Her face told me she knew exactly how well Hugo knew me and I considered poking her eye out with my fork.

"Oh, I'm her boyfriend." It was silent. Cutlery stopped scraping along the plates as everyone turned to look at us in shock.

"Casually dating," I hastened to correct, "Not even that. We're hanging out. And seeing where our chemistry leads us." A few people doubtfully raised their eyebrows at me but accepted the answer. Ruby looked put out while Shelby looked amused and Bucky was ready to make vulgar double entendres at us.

"Which in regular speak," Hugo began lightly. I wasn't sure I liked the cheeky grin he had plastered across his face or the excited twinkle-covered look he kept shooting my way, "We banged a couple of times and really like each other." The guys laughed while the girls gave me an understanding look. At least he'd won over half of my closest friends. I kicked his leg under the table and he cried out and sent me an offended look like he didn't understand what he'd done wrong.

"We're defining the relationship," I informed them, "And it looks like we're going to be staying at acquaintances who don't speak unless they run into each other on the streets accidentally. Does that sound good to you?" I glowered at him. He rolled his eyes and grabbed my hand obviously over the table and began to stuff food into his mouth. What a massive arse.

"Great food, baby," He told me. I simply glared in response but squeezed his hand to tell him the compliment was received well. A small smile pulled at his lips and I stared contentedly at him (although my face was still an unhappy mask) while others joined in with his praise, saying that we should make this an annual thing. The lunch continued on smoothly until people began to leave around seven-ish. Hugo managed to charm everyone over in the end and, while I was stacking the plates in the dishes and sharing a round of Bailey's with my girls, I was told how much he liked me and how well we fit together. At the time I blew it off but inwardly I was ecstatic that they all thought so. We swapped presents at the door and I wished them a happy new year and waved them all out. Hugo stayed behind to help clean up so I tasked him with dishes both dining and baking while I tidied up the mess and put the furniture back in place. There was a load of leftovers that Hugo put on a massive plate and then continued to pick off of. I had no idea how he finished the dishes so quickly but I decided that that would be his job from now on. Once we were both done we collapsed on the couch next to one another, happy to sit down again.

"Well, that was a success," He grunted, wrapping an arm around me. I didn't reply. Instead, I shifted my body so I was leaning over him and reached up to kiss him. I used my lips to wedge his open and cut past all the lead up crap and straight into the heated snogging. I was secretly happy that he had turned up in the end although I'd never ever tell him that. Sure, I had wanted to tell my friends about him differently but I don't think I would have enjoyed it as much with him elsewhere. Instead of worrying about every little tiny detail, I was just worrying about one very big one and that was much more relaxing than I thought it would be. And deep down, I wasn't even really that worried about it. I moved my hands so they were at the base of his neck and lightly pushing on his collar. He groaned softly and sunk further back into the couch and I let all my weight go down on him and lifted one of my legs over his lap so I was half-straddling him. His hands wandered lower and using my butt pulled me closer to him. Eventually I pulled back and rested my head against his neck for a little break. He groaned again under me but not out of pleasure this time. More so out of having his pleasure taken from him so unexpectantly.

"I think we should slow down a bit," I told him in explanation.

"Could we have sex and then slow down?" He moaned, shifting me so I felt his obvious strain.

"Fine," I rolled my eyes before unzipping my dress and shoving it over my head. It soared through the air before landing somewhere on the floor but my eyes were glued to him and his to somewhere else.

"Like you weren't expecting this," Hugo chuckled as his eyes raked over me. So I had put on my transparent red lace underwear this morning. I just wanted to be prepared.

He shifted us again and we got into it, this being much unlike the other previous times. There was a lot of feeling behind it but not anger or awe. It was just affection and passion. I think the second time was the best for me, but all were great. He knew what he was doing and it went extremely well. By the way he responded he thought the same of me.

Unfortunately it had to end sometime. Hugo left my apartment at eleven saying he needed to go home and make sure his family wasn't worried about his safety, leaving me all alone in my apartment. I snuggled into my blankets that night with a smile on my face and thought back over this Christmas.

Firstly, I hadn't gotten drunk. Tipsy, yes and I had sipped throughout the days but not so drunk that onlookers could pity me. Secondly, I hadn't ended up in any stray bars or unknown, shady places. I had kept to my house and my sober spots that were all very safe-looking and welcoming. Thirdly my smuttiness had improved. At least I had known the guy for a little over a day before I slept with him, plus I had had a real conversation with him—several, in fact—and he intended to stay with me past an orgasm and listened to what I had to say even when I was yelling at him or insulting him. The best part of it all was that, even though I was lying in my bed and the clock was rolling onto midnight and my door was broken and my neighbour had decided I was finally interesting enough to be perved back on, I wasn't unhappy or lonely. I was perfectly content with my life and even, dare I say it, looking forward to tomorrow. The Christmas of 2028 was a major improvement over the previous year's so I agreed with Hugo. Yes, this year had been a great success. As I drifted of, there was a big, big smile on my face and I couldn't wait to see what the New Year would bring and how everything in my life would turn out. My last thought was that I should maybe plan something for the thirty first before I was taken away from consciousness, the idea over before it began.


End file.
